


Praise

by ichigobanana



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Johnny's Jr., Snow Man (Japanese Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichigobanana/pseuds/ichigobanana
Summary: Miyadate finds out about one of his kinks. (1795 words)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd try outsourcing my fics somewhere more focused on fanfics than DW, so I'll give AO3 a try with DateNabe to see how it's going. I have no idea how AO3 is working, so I'm sorry in advance!
> 
> Inspired by me reading out about the praise kink and believing that it would be quite fitting for Dateppe (and probably Taisuke as well). Also slightly influenced by Dateppe's answer to my question about Taisuke on J-Web... Yet this is not focused on DateGaya at all w (maybe, someday...) I probably didn't quite hit what praise kink consists of, but I hope it's okay anyway.

“You're looking beautiful today.”

Miyadate raised his head, maybe a second too late, as Watanabe had already passed him by like nothing had happened. Maybe it hadn’t? He probably just had misheard it or someone else was meant. It wasn’t like he didn’t get praised at all. Their dance instructor had praised his dance moves recently and the photographers liked his serious face, they got praised for their efforts and ambition as a group. He just didn’t get praised _individually_ a lot, probably less than the others because he never really had been the type to be in the spotlight much. The belated shiver that ran down his spine felt weird, was intense enough to make him unable to blame it on a cool breeze, not in this stuffy dance room and it hadn’t been a simple quiver from thinking too hard either. Because by now he really was thinking too much about it. No, that shiver had made the hairs on his neck stand, the breath catch in his lungs and something tickle in his legs. Hot and cold at the same time. Something at the back of his mind told him, he knew what it meant, but he tried to shake it off.

“You’re staring too much,” a deep, but amused voice interrupted his brooding from the side and it startled him enough that his heart started racing, as if he had been caught doing something inappropriate. He didn’t count staring at his boyfriend as that, but who knew how creepy it had looked, considering he hadn’t even noticed that he was staring in the first place. Fujigaya sat down next to him on the gym mat, warm and close like he always was with people he liked, but Miyadate couldn’t tell if he liked that smirk on his senpai’s face or not. Something about it made him feel a little uneasy, but the other seemed to have some more to say, so he would listen to whatever it was.

And his feeling proved to be right as Fujigaya continued without being asked. “You like it, right?” A puzzled expression appeared on Miyadate’s face, he couldn’t quite place what was meant by that. The staring? “I don’t know what-” he started, trying to get more information, but suddenly Fujigaya leaned in, close enough that Miyadate had to blink and Fujigaya was almost crossing his eyes. It was a bit embarrassing, especially when he could practically taste a mix of cigarettes and mint gum on his lips from the other, but he held still, waited for whatever weird thing would happen now. What he didn’t expect was the deep, vibrating hum, the whisper, as Fujigaya imitated what Watanabe had said before. “You’re looking beautiful today, Da-te-ppe~” he purred against his lips. It wasn’t even a good imitation, really not, but the sensations Miyadate felt all of a sudden were breathtaking, a whole bunch of shivers shaking his body and concentrating in a ball of tingles and throbs in regions of his body that he didn’t want to react to that at all, even less in the middle of practice.

When Fujigaya pulled back with a knowing grin, he couldn’t help but shoot a glare at his senpai, trying to will his body to stop such nonsense. He couldn’t get off on that, could he? How silly would that be… “I know how that feels,” his senpai continued, voice completely normal and nonchalant now, just loud enough for him to hear and not raise suspicion from the others in the room. “Getting praised. And getting excited about it, more than others do.” So that’s really what it was? The praise? “It’s weird, right? Only special people can do that, make you feel like that. It’s only working if you really want it to. So I’m glad you did react to me like that, Dateppe. But try it with your boyfriend first, hm? I’m okay with being second.” A wink, a pat on his head, a bit of ruffling his hair. Wow. He would need a night to let that sink in.

*

“You’re beautiful like that…” The hand kept dragging through his hair, from his forehead to the back. He could feel them sticking to the skin, slowly becoming a bit greasy from the constant touch. The strength of the grip was increasing with every brush, as much as his breath was getting heavier, tugging a bit harder at the ends every time. They simply had laid down on the bed after a long day of practice, no energy to turn on the aircon in the room, only illuminated by the street lamp outside the window. He suppressed the shiver as Watanabe kept stroking his hair, leaned in closer to mouth at his ear. They were used to this, usually, it wasn’t much different than from all the other times they had went home together, ever since. But there was this small difference, the way he wasn’t the one spoiling Watanabe, the way sweet words got whispered into his ear and the hot, thick air of this summer night only added to the atmosphere. His head got pulled back as lips dragged down his throat, stopping somewhere around his collarbone to give him a yank on his hair, making sure he would listen to the murmured words that followed. Every bit of the praise Watanabe whispered immediately went straight between his legs and he probably would have been embarrassed by getting turned on so easily, if hadn’t been so good. He squirmed, jeans tight around him, shirt stuck to his skin, but Watanabe pushed him back down, used the chance to drag his free hand up his damp side, slowly, appreciating, resonating in his words.

“You’re hot and slick, Ryota, I like that… Such soft skin… Can I taste it?” Not that he would listen if he had any complaints now, but Miyadate still made a noise, probably sounding a bit too strained, not sure himself what it was supposed to mean. Watanabe gave him a last yank on the hair before he slipped down, both hands warm on his hips now. “You should keep working out, so nice.” The way his fingers pressed down against his skin, testing the muscles under it, made him groan and Watanabe raised a brow at him, apparently surprised by his reactions as much as Miyadate was himself. But it didn’t stop him, only encouraged him to let his hands wander over tensing muscles, the creases, the ups and downs that defined them. Fingers kept pressing into his skin as the other reached down, kissed the spot just above his navel, dragged his lips up the furrow line between his abs. Occasionally, Miyadate could feel Watanabe’s tongue lick at his skin as well and every time it made him shiver heavily, muscles only tensing more. And slowly, he started wondering if this wasn’t borderline torture, to have to wait and get teased for that long. But he would be patient, even if it resulted in having to wash his clothes before they had to leave for practice the next morning.

“You’re sweet and salty, Ryota,” he got to hear next and if he had trusted his voice any more, he probably would have replied that it was just how skin worked, but apparently Watanabe was done with that for now as his hands returned back to his hair, stroked through it on both sides of his head. This as well had a reason, Miyadate figured, as the other got into a better position on his lap, eyed the half-bared chest in front of him and the slick hair between his fingers. He kept stroking it for a while like that, giving both of them time to mutually observe each other, before Watanabe pulled on the tips of the strands curled around his fingers, started rocking his hips slowly. Miyadate couldn’t stop the curse bubbling out of him, followed by a low groan and neither could he stop his hands from finally reaching up to touch Watanabe, gripping at his thighs, pushing him down just a little more to press against his clothed erection. Torture, he decided, definitely.

“You sound amazing, it makes me feel all hot and bothered and I think you should just take me right now…” At least he wasn’t the only one who agreed on that part and they didn’t even bother with undressing, only got unnecessary parts out of the way to have enough space for Watanabe to mount him comfortably. Miyadate let him ride him like that for a while, let him hold onto his hair and grip at his side, enough until the other was dripping sweat on him and his heavy moans filled the room. He always loved listening to those and watching while his own hands were gently guiding the other’s body. But tonight, unlike the other times, the rest of his patience was soon used up after all the teasing and he switched their positions with a smooth move, pounding Watanabe into the mattress with the energy that was left in his muscles, the hands in his hair tangling around it until it was stinging. Every time Watanabe tried to pull the praise card again, started whispering in between breaths, he cut him off with an extra deep thrust, until finally he stuffed his sassy mouth with his tongue, making clear that he had heard more than enough nice words today by wrapping his hand around the other’s length.

It wasn’t often that they were messy or rough like that and how could something like praise even have gotten him that far? He had imagined it being a sweet, innocent kink, maybe with some teasing on the side, but this was so, _so_ much more. It was deep and passionate and he enjoyed every bit of it. But then again, he was with Watanabe, wasn’t he? Here they were, dripping with sweat, clothes damp and stuck between them, reaching their orgasms in a room half-lit by a street lamp. And he would later swear that he hadn’t come that intense in a while, his own experience only topped by Watanabe not even being able to get up afterwards to get some tissues for them.

“Was good?”  
“You never shut up, do you…”  
“Mmh, so Fujigaya-kun was right~”  
“...”  
“You’ll better go thank him properly.”  
“Will do, if you let me sleep now.”  
“Love you, too, Ryota~"

*

_OMAKE_

“No need to thank me, really. You’re cute, Dateppe.” But no pulling back this time, no imitating. Only leaning in and soft full lips that knew what they wanted and what they were doing, that absorbed and enticed, hands that were demanding and quick and everything just as much praise as his words could be.


End file.
